


the gospel truth i swear

by A_Nobelmonster



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Eating Disorders, Gen, Kevin-centric, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, ednos behavior, orthorexia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9668765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Nobelmonster/pseuds/A_Nobelmonster
Summary: 5 times Kevin needed help but couldn’t ask + 1 time he helped himself.





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> poor Kevin

It happens by accident. 

Kevin is sixteen, running laps like he can physically chase his future. Morning sun cuts through the slivers of window in the gym. His breath rattles from his chest into the empty court and it vindicates the burn of every lap because he is putting in the work. Greatness will not be denied him. 

Acid climbs in his belly on the tenth lap, Kevin swallows against nausea because every minute he’s not on the court is another minute he doesn’t deserve it but watery acid boils in his stomach like a pot on the stove. 

He’d rather just be sick and get it out of the way. Moments that are calm like this are rare so his fingers ache with the effort to hold onto the solitude. He wants to forsake himself but his stomach curses him, bending to his knees he waits for the verdict but nothing happens. 

If he just-

If he just got it out of the way he could go back to training. Kevin hates the idea of his body holding this threat over him. Hunched over a trashcan between the benches he waits clinging to the plastic liner with his eye’s on the distant sun. Everything is cold with the morning temperature drop despite it being the summer. 

The digital clock judges him. Move on Kevin. Get your ass moving.  
Frustration mounts, He shoves his fingers into his mouth because anything is better than the knives edge he’s on. His front teeth scrape his knuckles urging his gag reflex to perform. 

Goosebumps break over his exposed shoulders as gags rip from his throat. In movies and books vomiting never took this long. You shoved your fingers in your mouth, that was it but in real life, with his real gag reflex it’s a slow process. Kevin wishes he could wipe his nose, he’s focused though and once Kevin grabs onto a task he doesn’t leave easily. 

His throat flutters uncomfortably. His eye’s and nose are leaking, the mess is almost enough to stop him but then he’s vomiting into the trash bin blinded through his watery eyes with the 6 a.m. light of the outside world. 

It’s beautiful. Not the vomiting….well not exactly. It the unburdened feeling it leaves him with that's beautiful. For a few seconds, Kevin feels like a canvas, blank and fresh and able. When was the last time he felt this ok? 

He’s panting, his breath smells like the taste of touching your tongue to the tip of a battery. Electric, warm, bitter. His lungs expand and contract deeply, for the first time in a long time. He thinks he knows why people develop issues with this. 

Kevin can breathe because he’s in control of his body and his body is the tool that will get him a future with exy far away from the Ravens. If he can just stand balanced on this tightrope a bit longer ...he’ll be ok.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> your problem is that you expect perfection you silly boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shrugging emoji* no one is safe from me.

“I was sick.” it’s true. It’s true and it’s not.

Kevin was sick but he had helped things along. They had just finished dinner. Stir fry with brown rice and it clumped up in his gut. Cold, heavy. The food has tasted fine but it was not worth the suffocating feeling.

He spends twenty minutes in their en suite bathroom trying to rid himself of the cloying feeling in his stomach.

Riko’s reading when he comes out, he heard Kevin vomiting. Kevin blames the sweet potatoes. Too many starches.

Riko looks like he wants to ask why he ate the food if that was the case, the impression of a frown. “Do you still feel sick?” he asks instead.

No, Kevin will be fine for practice. He’s sure it's not serious because now that he’s gotten sick it's easier to breathe. It was the starches he sure.

The other boy still reaches out to rest the back of his hand on Kevin's forehead after he’s knelt down beside Riko. no fever.

Ok.

“If it gets worse tell me, don’t mess with you health Kevin.” he won't of course, Kevin is a professional athlete and his body is his job.

It’s strange that getting sick makes him feel better but it’s kind of like training. It's not enjoyable, you do see a result in yourself afterward, though.

There has been drug use and various disorders on the team before which is why Riko is watching like a clocks craftsman. Kevin kisses his palm, the tense set of Riko’s brow does not soften.

“I will see the court doctor if I need to, I promise.”

It’s not the first time food as weighed him down, clung to the walls of his stomach like barnacle's on the side of an abandoned boat to drag him down.

He has a slow metabolism most likely. That's fine. Kevin with watch what he eats, he’ll avoid starches and he’ll stretch before practice.

It’s not like before when he worked out too much. He knows his limits and its fine. 

He’ll be better.

**Author's Note:**

> ahaha i'm projecting on my poor tol son again but hey it has a happy ending so it'll be ok.


End file.
